Church Nerd Humiliation Junkie

Together with by best friend Chris and cousin Diana, I operate the booth on Sunday mornings, keeping the performance of the praise band crisp.

The whiteness of Alyssa's skin seems almost political, I think, as if only a Republican would have the gall to be so pale in an age so interracial.

She has almost as many freckles as pores; an asset that's as much to blame for my erection as her breasts, which are perfectly pale and palely perfect.

I suppress, of course, my urge to push her down onto the cheap gray carpet of the large Sunday school college classroom floor and rub my throbbing cock on her downy back until it feverishly ejaculates. It seems I'm always suppressing urges.

Geek-like, I gawk at her womanly movements as she nears me; the tilt of her hips, the bob of her voluptuous ass, and the casual, American swing of her ashen, freckly arms.

I allow myself to fantasize, imagining myself cuffed to a stall in the church's ladies' room, as Alyssa's hot piss gushes from her pussy onto my humiliated face, other church girls giggling at my weakness and emasculation as she removes a tube of lipstick from her purse, writing WIMP on my hairless chest between my man boobs.

I know, though, that as a born-again Christian, she'd be unlikely to do such a thing, however much I might crave it.

She's well within two feet from me and her perfume extracts a dribble of pre-cum from my cock.

"Hello," she says in a sing-song voice, looking me up and down with an eyebrow raised, so I'll know she sees my pitiful erection.

Alyssa puts a warm palm on my red cheek, smiling softly. "You ought not be so shy," she says, "or you'll never get what you want. Am I coming with you to lunch today?" she asks, and as I stutter uncertainly, Diana answers, "Yes."

Still touching my red and sweaty cheek, Alyssa adjusts her floral bra, visible beneath her slightly see-through top; her creamy, ivory-white breasts jiggling a little as an embarrassing bit of drool slips from the side of my mouth and down my chin.

She grabs my wrist and makes me wipe the drool away with my own sleeve, "Where are we eating?" she asks Diana.

"I think the steakhouse."

"Great."

PART 2

Under the steakhouse table, Alyssa's tan pantyhose-clad feet nonchalantly unzip my baggy khakis. She doesn't even look at me as she begins to massage my frantic cock, talking to Diane and Diane's dad, my uncle Bret about her college plans, etc.

Her feet seem almost impossibly warm and her toenails, which I'd seen earlier, painted an incredible pussy-pink, are cold. The interplay between warm toes and soles and ice-like toenails is unbearably erotic and I visibly shudder with delight.

Diana and Alyssa giggle at this; at the fact that I'm a twenty-year-old virgin who's never even touched a girl's tits. The entire family knows it and none of them take anything I say seriously because of it.

I blush, feeling quite the pathetic little boy, as pre-cum squirts out of my cock onto Alyssa's pantyhose as I imagine Alyssa, Diana and my beefy, tan aunt humiliating me in front of everyone in the restaurant.

Parading me through the steakhouse dressed in a canary-yellow tutu with the words "Permanent Virgin" emblazoned on the satiny panty-like area that covers my ass in big, hot-pink letters. Cum gushes from my six-inch cock onto the steakhouse floor as Alyssa and Diana continue to laugh at my pitiful life and I imagine the entire restaurant laughing at my flabby, weak, tutu-covered body and my never-ending virginity.

I feel a couple tears roll down my cheek and I wipe them away.

"Aw..." my deliciously powerful aunt says, "The little ballerina IS crying! What a pussy! I could beat the shit out of you any day, Jay! Look how hot I am! Look! I've seen you stare at my hot bronze arms before, pervert!"

I realize I'm still fantasizing and try to pull myself back to reality.

"Everything is fine," I tell everyone, "I guess it's just the food."

My dad and uncle Bret shake their heads, disappointed, as if to say, "What a fucking little girl. He can't eat steak? What kind of man can't eat steak?"

And more tears roll down my reddening cheeks as I massage Alyssa's petite feet beneath the table.